


Let The Yoke Fall From Your Shoulders

by libraryseraph



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Canon Disabled Character, Consensual Possession, Dehumanization, Disabled Character, Fade Spirits, Gen, Nonbinary Character, Past Abuse, Past Brainwashing, Queerplatonic Relationships, Recovery, Saarebas, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2018-06-08 04:45:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6839542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/libraryseraph/pseuds/libraryseraph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Kirkwall crew adopt a Saarebas. EVerything goes better than expected</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Saarebas followed the others, head down. They were tense, pulled tight, but with every step they came farther and farther from the only solution they knew. They were afraid.  
“Are you well?” The voice came from somewhere around Saarebas' elbow. It was Qunlat, heavily Tevinter-accented, but still Qunlat. The elf had fallen back to walk beside them, looking up at them with something close to concern.  
“I… no. I am not safe. None of you are safe around me.”  
“I am well acquainted with the dangers of mages. I can look after myself.”  
“…Good.” It hurt to talk so much. Even with the stitches loosened by the control rod's destruction, they still pulled constantly at the tender flesh of Saarebas' lips.  
_“What are you two talking about?”_ Trade, too fast to follow, from the dark-haired one the others had called Hawke.  
_“They are …concerned. Normally I would let you do this, but you can’t speak Qunlat.”_  
_“Thank you, Fenris.”_  
_"Really?”_ That was the other mage now, the tall blond one. _“You don't agree with this barbarism?"_  
“No. And that’s all I have to say to you.” The elf- Fenris- turned back to Saarebas. “You can trust Hawke.”  
“And the other?”  
Fenris just snorted.

As they went back through the tunnels, Fenris relayed the plan to them. Hawke would lie to the chantry sister, tell her Saarebas had died. Saarebas will stay with the other mage, called Anders or something like it, for now. It frightened them, the idea of being away from Hawke and Fenris, but that didn’t matter. They went where they were guided, and they did what they were told. If noone would bind them, perhaps they could bind themself.

 _“Hawke will come by tomorrow. You don’t need to be afraid.”_ They didn’t understand the words, but Anders’ voice was gentle in a way they hadn’t heard since their Tamarassan. The two of them walked through filthy cramped tunnels. The bas huddled in the tunnels greeted them. Two unbound mages walked among them, but they didn’t seem afraid. If Saarebas could have asked, they would have. Anders greeted the people back, stopping to speak with them. Their eyes alwats inevitably turned to Saarebas, and Saarebas folded in and tried to blend to the dank sides of the tunnels until the prying eyes turned away. eventually, one side of the tunnels fell away, to reveal the open sky and a view of Kirkwall's harbour. The air coming off the harbour was cleaner and fresher than the air in the tunnels, even with the faint undertones of rotting fish. Saarebas craned their head out of their collar, sniffing at the breeze and gazing at the dark blue sky. They found beauty whereever they could, little things to hold close in their mind. They were broken from their reverie by a gentle tug at their hand. They flinched, and quickly followed Anders up a flight of stairs, cursing themself for not being fast enough to follow. The door at the top of the stairs had a lit lantern beside it, and the rooms beyond it were wider, better lit, and slightly cleaner than the rest of the tunnels. Anders guided them behind a partition, away from prying eyes.  
_“Sit.”_  
Gentle hands, long fingered and calloused, wrapped around one of Saarebas’ wrists. With a burst of fire so sharp and controlled Saarebas barely recognized it as magic, Anders removed their cuffs. Saarebas raised their suddenly lightened wrists, looking at them and swiveling them. For almost 10 years, the cuffs had only been off for long enough to swap them out for larger ones, or to treat infected wounds. Their wrists were thinner than they had expected, and ringed with heavy scar tissue where the cuffs had been. Anders' hands were around Saarebas' wrists again, gently lowering their hands to their lap. He hooked his fingers under their collar, and paused. Saarebas nodded and leaned forwards to let Anders lift it over their head. As it came over their head, they suddenly felt small and exposed. They pulled their knees to their chest and quivered.  
“Shhhhh…” A hand ran over their head, rubbing briefly over the stubs of their horns before unlacing the straps of their mask. Saarebas pushed into Anders' hand, wanting to do anything to keep being touched so gently. Anders guided them to lie on their back, one hand holding their head in place.  
_“Hold still.”_ Even if Saarebas couldn’t understand the words, they understood the commanding tone. They held their head as still as they could as Anders cut the stitches in their mouth, and gently pulled the thread free. Magic surged over their lips, not harmful but cool and soothing. They raised shaking hands to their lips, feeling nothing but old scars.  
“How…” They grabbed Anders and pulled the other mage close, burying their face in his strange musty garments. They wanted to cry, wanted to scream and laugh and run, but they felt paralyzed. Anders hugged them back, gently. The weight and warmth of another body was an unfamiliar feeling, but welcome. Saarebas nuzzled into Anders’ shoulder, and felt one of his hands go up to cradle their head, stroking their close-cropped hair. If it was up to Saarebas, they would have stayed like that for hours, regardless of practicality.  
_“Here.”_ Anders draped blankets over their shoulders, wrapping them tightly. Saarebas curled into a ball, tucking their knees to their chest. The blankets gave back a little of the weight they had lost with their collar, and it was easier to breathe. One hand found the talisman still around their neck, running over its familiar shape. Something nudged against their shoulder, and they looked around to see anders holding a bowl. They smelled the steam wafting off it, and without thinking their hands reached out for it. Anders passed it to them and ran a hand over their head in that way that made them feel warm and settled. The soup was real, everything that went into it boiled down into a thick jelly. When Saarebas raised the bowl to their mouth, they had to open their mouth wide just to eat, and just that and the weight of it on their tongue brought tears to their eyes. Before, they had been fed thin gruel, siphoned into their mouth through a thin tube. Compared to that, this simple stew was undescribable. They managed to finish half of it before their stomach began to protest. Once Anders had taken the bowl, it was easy enough to let the exhaustion they had been holding at bay overwhelm them.

When Saarebas woke up, they lay still for a while. As long as they didn't move, they could keep the world and their terrifying lack of bonds at bay. There was noone there to guide them, to hold them back, to protect others and they were afraid of it. Besides, the small cot they were curled up on was surprisingly comfortable, and they didn't want to move. They listened to the noises around them, footsteps and conversations carried on in unfamiliar language. As they listened, they managed to pick out Anders' voice, gentle and commanding and- they soon realized- moving closer to their bed. Saarebas flinched, but pushed themself out from under the blankets and sat up.  
"Good morning." Anders smiled, and handed Saarebas another bowl. It was porridge this time, thick and warm. As they ate, Anders put a hand in Saarebas' back, and rubbed in slow gentle circles. Saarebas sighed. They hadn't imagined last night, which was good. They liked the food and they liked being touched, but they didn't know what it meant, to be touched and fed like a person. They licked the last dregs of porridge out of their bowl, and took Anders' hand. Anders smiled at them, and lead them out into the main room. It was just as busy as it had been last night, and they could feel eyes on them. Saarebas found a crate to perch on, knees drawn up their chest, and watched Anders. Anders was talking to another bas, a human holding their arm close to their chest. Saarebas watched, more for lack of anything else to do, as Anders guided the human to one of the cots and raised their arm. The human's arm was braceleted in dark bruises and bent at a strange, painful angle. Anders held the arm with the firm gentleness of a practiced healer, pushing the bone back into place before the injured human had any time to react. Almost immediately, light welled up between his fingers and spread out over the arm. Bruises retreated, and the arm restraightened. As the human raised their arm, twisting it and clenching their fingers, Saarebas felt their mouth drop open. They had felt it last night, but seeing it was completely different. Saarebas stood up and, as quietly as they could, moved to a better vantage point where thy could watch every movement Of Anders' hands.


	2. Chapter 2

Footsteps sounded outside the clinic. Saarebas tilted their head to listen, catching fragments of conversation from outside. They could hear new voices, but they could also hear Hawke and- they let out a relieved breath- Fenris. Fenris was stable and strong. Even if he said he wasn't an Avaarad, he had that same feeling of control and rightness. The door opened, and Saarebas stood and crossed to stand by it. Fenris entered first, fully armored and bent into a fighter's stance under his sword.  
"Good morning, Fenris," they managed to get out, dipping their head.  
The corners of Fenris' mouth turned up. "Good morning. Did you eat last night?"  
Saarebas nodded, and gestured to show the size of the bowl. "This morning, too."  
Fenris put a hand on their shoulder, briefly. His clawed gauntlets left the skin of his palms bare, and the calloused skin was warm. Saarebas raised their hand to the place he had touched, trying to hold the feeling in.  
"Would you like to meet the others?"  
We have no arvaarads. We watch each other. Saarebas nodded, despite the nervousness clenching at their stomach. Even though Fenris was so much smaller than them, they tried to stay as hidden behind him as they could.  
Hawke smiled at them, and said something.  
"They want to know if you slept well."  
Saarebas nodded. They had been mostly untroubled by demons, and they remained safe for their new companions.  
Fenris turned, and spoke to Hawke. They nodded.  
Saarebas looked at Fenris again. "Who are the others?"  
"Varric-" Fenris gestured at a red-haired dwarf, beardless and wearing an open red shirt, "and Merrill." - a small dark-haired elf, looking up at them with wide green eyes. Varric shook his head, almost exaggeratedly, and spoke with Fenris briefly. Fenris almost smiled, and spoke to them.  
"He says he's pleased."  
Saarebas nodded, awkwardly. People were never pleased to see a Saarebas, except maybe when the situation couldn't get any worse. They kept their mouth shut, however, and didn't say anything about Fenris' mistranslation. They looked away, and met Merrill's eyes. She smiled and waved.  
She walked closer, and spoke to them brightly.   
They nodded. Fenris rubbed at his forehead with the palm of his hand. He replied to Merrill, frowning.   
Saarebas couldn't understand the words, but they understood the tone. "Don't. Not for me." They turned to Merrill, and tried to smile. she clasped one hand to her mouth, and reached out, standing on tiptoes to brush a hand against their face. Her fingers were warm, and they butted into her hand, rubbing their face against her fingers. Merrill laughed and moved closer, and then she was holding them, arms barely meeting behind their back. Saarebas was suddenly aware of their size, and their power unbound, and they wanted to push her away. They should have, but they were also very aware of her warmth and her closeness. Merrill was whispering something, gently. She had approached them first, and she had been unafraid of them. Their eyes prickled, and they heard themself snuffle. They held back the tears. They shouldn't feel this way. They shouldn't feel. A tiny tempting voice hissed in the back of their mind, telling them to let it go, to step away from the Qun with their new companions. _No!_ It flashes through their mind. They can't. They are their own first and last line of defense, and demons could be anywhere, tempting them in everything. When they straighten out of the embrace, the room seemed to be tilting and rocking, like the deck of a ship. They shook their head, and that made it worse. They sucked in a deep breath, and draped their hands over their shoulders, pressing down hard and squeezing across their chest. That made everything steadier, made it make more sense. There were people to restrain them there, many people, and with that in mind they were able to smile, or try to. They were sure their scarred lips bent horribly and they exposed too much of their fangs, but no-one seemed frightened.  
"They seem to be doing alright." Hawke's voice was low, their brows furrowed and their dark brown eyes narrowed.  
Fenris nodded. "Just, be careful. It will be...hard for them to realize if something is wrong."  
Hawke reached out a hand, and put it cautiously on Fenris' shoulders. "Thank you."

Saarebas spent much of the rest of the morning huddled in a corner. They didn't mind sitting and waiting; it was not knowing what they were waiting for. They squeezed their eyes closed and recited the qun under their breath. As long as they remembered they would be safe, they told themself. They were barely aware of their hands, pressing down on their shoulders again, firm and warm.  
"Saar-" They jumped, trying to get to their feet and getting tangled in their robe skirt. They swayed dizzily on their feet for a few moments, grabbing at the wall to keep them upright.  
"Sorry, sorry." Hands on them, trying to keep their bulk upright. It was Anders, carrying a bundle under one bony arm. He held the bundle out. "New clothes."  
Saarebas took it. The clothes were much-patched and undyed, but they seemed to be the right size. They placed the bundle on the floor, and reached for the fastenings of their skirt, undoing the first one.  
"Wait!" Hands shot out at their hands, and Saarebas pulled their hands up to their chest to safety. Anders' eyes widened.  
"No." One of his hands went up, and gently pulled their hand down. Anders shook his head, and gestured behind a partition. "That's all."  
Saarebas felt their face burn, and buried it in the bundle of clothes. They shuffled behind the partition, and sank to the ground. They had forgotten so completely how people worked. It had been so long since there had been any concern about their body. They had to be accompanied by Avaraad at all times, and they needed help to bathe or dress with the collar on. People didn't do that, though. They dressed with shaking hands in the simple tunic and trousers, which were rough and warm. All the things they didn't know and couldn't do were opening up before them. If they stayed here, they would be expected to do everything for themself. They couldn't do that. They shouldn't be given that responsibility, but more than, that they just couldn't do it. For years, they had had only one purpose, and now they couldn't do it anymore. They felt the realization break something inside them. Saarebas put their head down on their knees and began to weep.

 

The world was strange, distorted and fogged as if seen underwater. Saarebas was dreaming, and they clenched their fists in preparation. The fade had shaped itself around them into the docks of Par Vollen, as usual. The demons always did this, tried to work on the memories from before. It wouldn't work. That assumed they could feel any entitlement to their life before. They found a crate and sat on it, and waited for the temptations to begin in force.  
"What are you doing?" The voice was delicate and high-pitched, like a combination of a child's voice and birdsong.  
Saarebas set their shoulders, and fixed their eyes on the horizon. "Begone."  
"No. You can't make me do anything I don't want to do." The surprising petulance of that voice made Saarebas look up. There, crouched on the support post of the awning was the demon. It was child-sized and thin, seemingly made of liquid golden flames, with a faceless knot of golden fire for a head. It seemed delicate and unthreatening, perhaps unsettling at worst, but Saarebas knew not to trust appearances.  
"This is nice. I see the ocean a lot. People think it's me, because it goes everywhere. I go everywhere too, even more than the ocean."  
The demon was rambling, not even seeing to address them, but as it spoke, its words wormed into their mind. They remembered the scent of the sea and the slap of the waves against the fishing boat's hull, they remembered the burn of exertion in their shoulders and the coarse rope against their palms as they changed the rigging, they remembered what it was like to be a person and not a tool... They snapped back to awareness.  
"What are you doing to me?" They demanded.  
The demon twisted to face them. "I'm not doing anything. I can't do anything without your help. Don't you know what I am?"  
Saarebas refused to respond. They stared out into the distance, and let their eyes unfocus. There was nothing in them that could be tempted, nothing in them that belonged to them.  
"You need me. You have to need me." It was sounding increasingly desperate. "I'm Freedom."  
Saarebas flinched.  
"Why are you afraid? I don't want you to be frightened."  
"I am not afraid of you."  
"Then why are you this way? I've never met anyone who didn't want me like this, just people who didn't understand."  
"Freedom is unnecessary. The only choice we need is to live or not." Saarebas swallowed. "I made my choice."  
"No...but that's...that's not what I am. That's not how it works." It folded in on itself and vanished. "Not now."  
Saarebas woke, still feeling tired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big shout out to Archaeopteryx/avialae on tumblr for betaing this chapter and for writing a fanfic set in this au (which we share) here http://avialae.tumblr.com/post/144824086203/there-is-always-another-option


	3. Chapter 3

“Where...where are we going?"  
Hawke paused, and turned to look at Saarebas. "We are going outside the city to the ocean."  
"The ocean?" Ey was picking up trade remarkably quickly, but there were still words ey couldn't follow.  
Hawke turned. "Fenris, can you help me?"  
Fenris shrugged. "It is called-" he slipped back into Qunlat "aban."  
"I understand." Ey knew what ocean was now, and ey could feel it, an almost queasy excitement stirring in eir stomach and chest.  
Hawke looked em up and down. "Do you want to come?"  
Saarebas froze. Wanting was a trap. Demons and want were one and the same. There was, should be, no want in the Qun, and especially not for something like them.  
"I—I will follow you."  
Hawke shrugged and Fenris' face creased, disapproving. He turned on his heel and continued. Saarebas followed, cursing emself. Ey shouldn't have said anything. Fenris didn't want to hold em back, to be responsible for em. Noone did. Ey clamped eir hands onto eir shoulders, squeezing down hard, letting the pressure still em. Ey trudged up the hill, sinking everything into eir steps. It was easy enough to do that, to let everything sink away into the motions of eir legs one in front of the other, and the burn in eir muscles. It was safe like this: it kept em from thinking. Ey stumbled. The ground evened out below eir feet, and fell away again, showing that the path led over rough edged hills and wound down into crevasse-like valleys. A cool, gentle breeze pushed at eir face, plucking at eir borrowed clothes and poking gently at eir scars. The smell of it hit em, all out of proportion to the breeze's size. It was tangy and fresh, and familiar. Ey could have sworn the wind was carrying noises as well as smells, laughter and shouted speech and creaking rigging. Ey raised eir head, and gazed through tear-glazed eyes. A few steps away from em, the ground slanted abruptly away in a steep slope of scree and the occasional hardy cliff plant, and there it met the sea. The wind was blowing along the store towards em, not hard enough to whip the waves into great peaks, but hard enough to move the scent of the ocean into eir face, embracing and swaddling em. The ocean moved like a restless creature, stretching against the shore and then withdrawing itself, over and over. The clouded sky made the ocean a soft dark grey, deepening to green-brown in places where the water shallowed. They was a strange keening noise, echoing over the wind and the sound of the ocean. Saarebas realized it was coming from em. ey fell to eir knees. Strange, strangled noises were being emitted from eir throat. They waited for the sobbing to stop, to just pass them by, but it didn’t. Hawke's hand settled on eir head, and ey bust into tears. Eir body was wracked with ugly, loud, shuddering sobs. Hawke's hand moved in slow, gentle circles through eir sparse hair. It was as if Hawke believed Saarebas deserved to be protected, as if Saarebas needed to be protected. There was no fear, no judgement at eir overwhelming emotion, just gentle touch. Eventually, the storm passed, and Saarebas opened eir eyes and rose unsteadily to eir feet. Everything tasted and smelled of salt, as if ey had been soaked in the ocean, or as if it had seeped into em from the inside out and become a part of em. That thought almost made em cry again, but ey held it back, and it only came out as a shuddering deep breath. Fenris stepped closer to em and Hawke, his face set in something close to sorrow.  
"Are you well?"  
"Yes," and then, although it could not truly make up for eir loss of control, "I apologize for my—"  
"Enough." Fenris waved away the apology.  
"Fenris?"  
"Yes?"  
"Thank you. And Hawke, thank you."  
Fenris' face broke into an unexpected smile, like the sun slipping from behind a cloud. "Good."

Fenris and Hawke came with Saarebas into Darktown. The chains of the old lift creaked and screamed as if in pain as it descended, and Saarebas winced. Hawke appeared even worse, her whole face screwed up and her hands clamped over her ears. Saarebas stepped closer, and placed a hand on her back. Surprisingly, she seemed to relax subtly, even if she didn't remove her hands, and when the lift had finally quieted, she turned and grasped eir large hand with one of her small ones, squeezing it surprisingly tight. Fenris and Hawke talked as the three of them left the lift, the words blending together like the ocean. The people who lived in the Undercity brushed past them, too tired and concerned to pay any attention to their odd group. Hawke turned to Fenris, and the two of them spoke, Fenris nodding and frowning. Ey reached and plucked at the cloth spurs on Fenris' armor, making inquisitive noises. Fenris jumped, shifting his shoulder spikes out of reach and turning to them.  
"We will go back to the clinic together. There is...something I need."  
"I am pleased to have you with me." It was inadequate, to try and express the relief ey felt, at knowing ey would remain with Fenris for a little longer.  
Fenris nodded, and the three of them turned into the corner of the Undercity where the walls of the city broke and were open to the air, and the light and air pushed away the darkness and the stink of the tunnels. It wasn't possible to forget where ey was, but this made it less obvious. Anders' clinic had windows as well, and high ceilings. The floor wasn't quite clean—Saarebas imagined that would be impossible down here—but the floor at least seemed to be made of less layers of dirt. Anders emerged from behind a partition, wiping his hands on a cloth. Hawke waved, and when Anders saw her, he smiled.  
"Hawke! Good to see you again!"  
They were talking too fast for Saarebas to follow, so ey retreated to the corner ey had marked as eir own, a small space marked off by a stack of crates and a partition and filled with a nest of blankets. When ey huddled into it and pulled eir knees up to eir chest, ey could see out across the clinic. Fenris hung back at the door, arms crossed, while Anders and Hawke talked out of sight. Ey could also hear the ocean in the harbour far below, and hear the gulls scream as they flew past the windows. It was nice, even if it made em think of another life, that should be gone from eir mind. Hawke came out from Anders' corner carrying a small jar in her hand, and came over to eir corner.  
"I'll see you tomorrow, understand?"  
Saarebas nodded and reached up to pull her into eir embrace. She squeezed tightly for a human, the pressure comforting around eir shoulders, and her brown curls smelled like the sun. Ey was reluctant to release her and pull back, but at least she ran a hand across eir downy curls and briefly scratched behind eir stubby horns.  
"Good evening, Hawke."  
"Good evening, Saarebas."  
She walked over to the clinic doors, handing Fenris the small container as they left.  
“How do you do these things, Anders?”  
Anders turned.  
“Sorry?”  
“How do you do these—“  
“No, not that. I don’t understand what things you mean.”  
Ey stared at him longer. Was he joking?  
“All—all this.” Ey gestured at the clinic. “It’s not…” they struggled for a word that would appropriately cover everything. “…usual.”  
“I don’t care if it’s usual. It’s what I do.”  
Ey sat on a cot, and drew eir legs up to eir chest. “But how can you? How can you help?”  
Anders sat down next to em, sliding a little where eir weight pulled the cot down.  
“This is how I choose to use my magic. All mages can do this.” He put a hand on Saarebas’ knee. “Don’t you see what we can do, if we aren’t bound?”  
“Anders…”  
“What happened to you was wrong, don’t you see—“  
“No!” Ey jolted upright. Anders stepped towards em. Saarebas raised eir hands as a paltry shield. “I don’t want to hurt people!”  
“But you don’t have to!” Anders was shouting now, his voice cutting through the air. “Are you telling me you seriously believe your gifts can only be used for harm? That you can’t be trusted to use them for good?”  
“No! I cannot.” it wasn’t a matter of believing or not believing, of trust or choice or anything. It was just what was, and what wasn’t. Ey knew what was true, and if Anders didn’t, then he would have to find out someday.  
Anders set his face, and turned away from em. Ey should have been glad ey didn’t have to hear his temptations any more, and ey was, but on some level ey hurt too. Saarebas retreated to eir corner. Ey felt sick all over, queasy and weak-legged, and eir temples were beginning to throb. Tears blurred eir eyes, and ey swiped at them, more irritated now than sad.

Ey stood on the decks of a boat, the boards rising and falling under eir feet. The mast stabbed upwards, the edges of the tightly furled sails moving slightly where the wind caught them. The fishing nets were empty now and pulled up, bundled along the sides of the boat, but as Saarebas stepped forwards, ey could see the ties that could be loosened to unfurl them into the ocean. The water around the boat was a clear emerald, rising and falling in smooth, even swells. As ey looked out farther, ey could see the changes of colour, where the depth changed, in lines and patches of turquoise and blue and green. The sky above eir head was a deep, flawless blue, interrupted only by thin clouds the wind had stretched into narrow ridges. A few white seabirds flew overhead, crying raucously. The whole thing seemed almost real.   
“This boat needs more crew. You can’t man it with only one person.” Ey looked to the top of the mast as they spoke. The golden demon ignited into view as they watched.  
“I’m not talking to you.” It was facing away from em, in a way that seemed almost petulant. “You called me a demon.”  
“You are a demon. That just—” ey shrugged. “It just is.”  
“I can’t be a demon. Demons take. I don’t take. I’m Freedom.”  
Saarebas sat down on the splintery, fish-scented boards. “This illusion is unnecessary.”  
“I thought it would help you. I thought it would make you realize that what happened to you was wrong, that you used to have something else, and that you could again.”  
Eir breath caught in eir throat. This had been a purpose. Ey had been a fisher, ey had been something. It felt shameful to admit it, but ey had wanted to go back to it, ever since that day. Saarebas dug eir claws into eir temples as if ey could dig the thoughts out. Ey didn’t want this, ey just wanted it to stop. Everything hurt, and ey sobbed.

“Wake up!”  
Saarebas’ eyes shot open. Ey were lying in eir corner in Anders’ clininc. Anders was looming over em, hands on eir shoulders.  
“What—what is it?”  
“You’re awake. That’s good. It can be hard to get a mage out of the fade, but you didn’t seem to be in a good place.”   
Saarebas’ throat closed up, and ey grabbed Anders’ hands.  
“Is anything wrong?”  
“I don’t—I don’t know.”  
Anders’ fingers entwined with eirs. They were long and slender, and faintly callused.  
“I wish—“ Saarebas choked back a sob. “I wish I could be a mage like you, but I can’t.”  
Anders freed his hands, and cupped eir face. His hands were so warm, ey noticed. Had other people’s hands always been that warm, and that gentle? “I can help you. I’ll show you, and so will Hawke. Maybe you think you can’t, but that’s a lie they told you, just like all the other lies.”  
He moved one of his hands to to top of eir head, stroking eir downy hair. “You aren’t what they said you are.”  
Saarebas pulled Anders close, and burst into tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally here! a big thank you to everybody who left kudos and comments over the past year, it really helped keep me motivated.   
> Some notes: due to personal issues, I'm now using my hawke instead of my friends  
> Using singular they pronouns in a fic with an ensemble cast was a nightmare, so I've changed Saarebas' pronouns to ey/em/eir  
> previous chapters will probably be edited soon to bring those changes up  
> Constructuve criticism always welcome!


End file.
